


3:00 am

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Series: All for the Game Tumblr Prompts [23]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insomnia, M/M, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25979749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: Neil would much rather be running on pavement right now.  He could be breathing fresh air instead of the odor of sweat and gym socks.  He could be hearing distant traffic and stray animals instead of the low hum of the TV and the mechanical whirr of the treadmill below him.  He could be looking ahead at sights he had never seen instead of watching the miles slowly click upward on the treadmill display.Neil has a habit of running at 3:00 am.  He isn't the only one who can't sleep.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: All for the Game Tumblr Prompts [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/779268
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	3:00 am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ApprenticedMagician](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApprenticedMagician/gifts).



> Tumblr fic written for the prompt: “We’re always both in the apartments’ fitness center at 3 am” -- Andreil apartment neighbours~~~ Who sadly have insomnia~~~

Neil would much rather be running on pavement right now. He could be breathing fresh air instead of the odor of sweat and gym socks. He could be hearing distant traffic and stray animals instead of the low hum of the TV and the mechanical whirr of the treadmill below him. He could be looking ahead at sights he had never seen instead of watching the miles slowly click upward on the treadmill display.

But Neil had learned his lesson after the last time. Browning had told him a hundred times that running at 3 am made him unusual, made him remarkable. And Browning had been right. All it had taken was for some bored teen on a night shift in a local convenience store to see him running by every night and tweet about it. Romero had been waiting for him in the darkness. Neil had barely escaped with his life. If Browning had been a little slower to respond when Neil pressed his panic button, there would have been nothing left of him to save.

Browning wanted him to stop running altogether. This was their compromise, an apartment building with a resident only gym in the basement. And so when the nightmares drove him from his bed, Neil had somewhere to go.

Two months after he moved into his new place, he no longer had the place to himself at 3 am. He almost didn’t notice the blond at first. He wasn’t using any of the machines. He was just scrunched up in one of the corners between the weight machine and the wall and he had the tv turned up louder than Neil was used to. But far be it from him to prevent someone else from finding a refuge. He just ran as usual until he could see the rosy light of dawn peeking through the blinds on the windows. He didn’t notice when the other guy left.

They soon established a routine of sorts. The blond was almost always there first. Neil soon learned to make noise outside the door to keep the guy from flinching away when he entered the room. And then he would leave before Neil tired of running. Sometimes Neil nodded to him when he left but more often, he was too stuck in his own head to even notice. 

One night, the guys face is swollen, black and blue. Neil can’t stop the horrified gasp from coming out of his mouth. “What the hell happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” the other guy replied. “It was an accident.” And he curled himself up further into his corner. Neil let him go and turned to his treadmill. The last thing he needed to do was get involved in someone else’s problems.

But later, when he looked up from the display in front of him, the man, or actually, really more like a boy was standing there and watching him. Neil stepped down, his legs like jelly. He was surprised to realize the kid was shorter than him by about three inches and he suddenly seemed much younger than Neil had thought, maybe 18 to Neil’s 22.

“What are you running from.” the kid stated flatly.

Neil looked at him warily. “That didn’t really sound like a question.”

“It wasn’t,” he said.

“I’m not running from anything. Stationary bike, remember?” Neil scoffed.

“Right, that’s exactly how a normal, well-adjusted person runs on a treadmill.” The kid raised one eyebrow.

“The past,” Neil replied.

“I suppose that’s all the honesty I’m going to get out of you,” The kid looked away as if bored. He looks back and furrows his brow for a minute. “Andrew,” he finally said.

“What?” Neil asked, taken aback.

The kid, Andrew, just shot him a look and went back to curl up in his corner. He left about twenty minutes later.

“Andrew,” Neil called after him. “Call me Neil.”

Andrew nodded and vanished up the stairs before the door could swing closed behind him.

This first interaction was not the opening of the floodgates but Neil immediately sensed that Andrew knows all about secrets and how to keep them. 

The next night, Andrew abandoned his corner and sat beside the treadmill instead. Neil did his best not to watch him while he was running.

“Don’t you have a TV in your apartment?” Neil asked. Andrew looked up and Neil could almost see his defences rising. He also saw the moment Andrew decided not to lie. 

“Yes, but it would keep Drake up,” he said after a long pause.

“Who’s Drake?” Neil asked. But Andrew was done speaking.

Neil was still guarded, letting Andrew know only vague details. Andrew soon knew that he was in witness protection and that he came from a mob family, but not from what city and definitely no names. If Andrew knew too much, it would paint a target on his back.

Neil saw Drake two weeks later. He was dressed in workout clothes, the shorts exposing horrific scarring on his leg. He had a crutch under his left arm and Andrew under his right. He was shouting. “Hurry the fuck up, idiot. You wanna carry me if my leg goes out?” He saw Neil looking out his door at the two of them. “Whatcha looking at, fag? Jealous?” He grabbed Andrew by the back of the head and mashed their lips together violently. Andrew’s hands trembled as he helped Drake the rest of the way to their door.

“Is Drake your boyfriend?” Neil asked the next night.

Andrew hesitated, grimacing, but eventually he just nodded and put his head down on his knees.

“Why don’t you leave him?” Neil whispered.

“I promised,” Andrew mumbled into his knees.

“Promised who?” Neil continued but Andrew was done talking for the night.

There were more bruises the next night, painting his chin, his ankles where his pants were riding up, and peppered all over his neck and collarbone. He didn’t look at Neil at all, just started talking. “I promised Cass. She was my foster mother. She loved me. But she got cancer. She was dying and Drake came back injured from Afghanistan. She made us promise we would stick together so we wouldn’t be alone.”

“Is Drake…another foster kid?” Neil asked.

“He’s her son, her real son,” Andrew mumbled, face turned away from Neil.

“So he’s like your brother? And he’s old. What is he, 26?” Neil coaxed.

“He’s 28,” Andrew finally looked up at him and the despair on his face is enough for Neil to scramble down off the treadmill and sit in front of Andrew, their knees barely touching.

“Do you really need to be…with him?” Neil pleaded. “Surely you didn’t promise her…that.”

“It’s the only way he wanted me,” Andrew spat.

“And now? What do you want?” Neil asked, extending his hands forward but not touching Andrew.

“I want to choose for myself,” Andrew whispered fiercely.

“And I…I want to stop running from my past,” Neil admitted.

Andrew finally reached forward and gripped Neil’s hands, hard. “Maybe it’s time we make a deal. You make sure I have a future beyond Drake and I’ll give you a reason to stay.”

Neil leaned forward slowly and Andrew came to him. They sat for awhile, foreheads touching, breathing the same air. Neil moved an inch closer and brushed his lips faintly over Andrew’s. “Deal,” he whispered.


End file.
